In a Grain of Sand
by mynameisvaleria
Summary: There was something about the way he moved. Perhaps it was the bitterness swept away under the veil of nonchalance in his eyes. Maybe it was that her existence that seemed to be the yin to his yang. Pietro finds himself going back to the same girl night after night, and she finds herself feeling something more than cold indifference towards the silver-haired European. (Pietro x OC)
1. 1

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*I went to see Age of Ultron a while back, and I instantaneously fell in love with Pietro Maximoff. Then, I found myself wondering what it would be like for him if he had not died. Combine that with intense feels after reading a lot of Albert Camus, and this story was born._

 **1.**

Sometimes, she thought running would help ease her stress; and sometimes, she had to physically drag herself out of bed in the morning.

She ran, mostly, with the intensity of a lagging computer. This was to be expected. In her life, she had never done anything with more than half-arsed determination.

(Except for writing. But of course, only because she was a half-broke Literature major.)

This was a life she had chosen for herself, but it wasn't one she enjoyed living. She had heard once, that the literary canon was full of depressed people. She found it in her to agree, but then remembered that she was not yet qualified enough to be a part of the canon.

That only made her more depressed.

Yet, Romana Song would sit in cafes sometimes, and realise that she was living her dream, while wondering if this was truly what she wanted.

(But what more could she ask for?)

Anyway, she ran with the intensity of a lagging computer, and let her gaze wander. A breeze went by her, and she slowed to a jog, getting the strangest feeling that someone had ran by really, really quickly.

Rolling her eyes, Romana dismissed the ridiculous assumption and carried on, syncing her footsteps with the rhythm of her new favourite song. _2 miles to go._ The heat was getting to her. She wiped the sweat off her upper lip unceremoniously and ungracefully. She breathed slowly, and breathed in the pungent hot air with each intake. It burned her lungs and made her heart pound with the intensity that she could never summon.

Swearing under her breath, she slowed down to a walk once more, and slammed the 'stop' button on her iPod. The sun continued to shine upon her. She shook her head at her lack of perseverance, but did not stop long enough to wonder how she could change that.

She stopped by her favourite cafe, and bought herself a cup of espresso that she could not afford. Sitting by the window, she drowned herself in self-pity and guilt for a moment before leaving to scribble down a plot-bunny that had appeared in the back of her mind.

(She stayed in her room, poring over the idea for 2 hours, and very nearly missed her lecture.)

The Walk of Shame was not nearly as shameful as most university students suggested. Romana slipped into the lecture hall 10 minutes late, yet only a few weary glances were cast along her way.

Once (and it seemed too long ago), the professor had had sky high hopes for her. But then mid-term came and she managed to fuck up the expectation that she was a prodigy (which, in her defense, was a bloated rumour), and she had just become a disappointment from then on.

So even as she muttered a half-hearted apology for her tardiness, the professor only carried on teaching with the sort of manner you'd expect to see from a weary old man tired of life.

For the rest of the lesson, Romana listened attentively, compiling the best set of notes anyone could have asked for. Yet, behind the perfect handwriting, there was a hidden layer of nonchalance and absence.

When the lesson ended, she put her head up, and shuffled out of the classroom like everyone else. She thought about how the rest of the students here probably had no idea who they were, or what they wanted in life. Then, she tried to juxtapose herself, and found that while she knew exactly what she wanted, it had, ultimately, made no difference.

 _You're reading too much Albert Camus,_ she told herself, _and it's getting to your brain._

Then, Romana went back to her dorm room, and spent the rest of the day trying to finish her essay on soliloquies that was due one week later, and then when that didn't work, she tried her hand at finishing the manuscript that she had vowed to finish before the end of the month.

In the end, neither was done, so she just turned the lights off, and tried to get a bit of a shut-eye before the next day.

* * *

 _Don't stop reading! Pietro will be in the next chapter- this is just an introduction- I promise!_


	2. 2

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*Hi! First of all, thank you to everyone who favourited and added this to their story alert. It means a lot to me. Also, I wouldn't mind also, if you guys wanted to send in a review. That'd be really great._

 **!In the previous chapter, I mentioned that her assignment was due in 2 days. It was a mistake- I forgot to update this version. Her essay is due in a week. This is semi-important because it will be mentioned later!**

 **2.**

Two days (or nights) later, Romana was at her first party of the semester.

She weaved into the crowds in the packed club, and tried to find a spot that would have her. Eventually, she found one near her best friend (if she could call her that— she had left all her best friends back in her home country). Ness smiled at her, and handed her a drink. Without questioning it, she took a sip and offered her friend a publicity smile.

'It's been ages, Romana! Where have you been?'

'Writing that godforsaken essay,' she replied with passionate hatred in her tone. In truth, she hadn't hated writing the essay so much, but it was 'cool' to express disdain for school work.

Ness wrinkled her nose. 'Your professor is a dick.'

 _And you're practically illiterate,_ she returned in her head, wondering why, with over a million choices, Ness had to choose this adjective. Frankly, Romana couldn't see why calling someone 'a dick' was supposed to be derogatory and insulting. It was a human organ— what was so degrading about that?

Nevertheless, she smiled and agreed half-heartedly as Ness launched into another topic. 'You know, I spotted a guy on the floor just now, and I think you two would make the cutest babies in the world!'

Romana resisted the urge to snap at her friend that she would _kill_ before having any babies.

'Really? Single him out for me,' she instead said, pretending to scour the crowds for her 'dream-guy'.

Ness squinted, but frowned, throwing her hands up. 'I give up. I think he's gone.'

Romana shrugged in response. 'Pity.'

'Well, settle in, I'll just run around, chat up a few more people, have some fun, you know?'

Then Ness turned and left, which to some point, actually made Romana more comfortable. She downed the rest of her drink without a grimace. Alcohol was honestly really all she looked forward to in night-outs like this.

She picked up another drink from the bar table sneakily, hopefully without anyone noticing, and made her way across the room. Just then, something bumped into her rather roughly, and sent her drink flying out of her hand.

'Goddamn- oh,' her sentence made an abrupt stop as a boy stood by her side, steadying her stance with one hand while holding her unspilled drink in another. Dazed and confused, she grabbed the vodka out of his hands quickly. 'Thanks. It would have... been messy.'

He shot her a smile, and Romana found herself returning an amicable smile as well. 'I like your hair,' he simply replied, completely off-topic and catching her off-guard.

She frowned and touched her hair, then swept a gaze over his own. 'Well, that's convenient, isn't it?' she replied, still smiling, as her gaze lingered on the head of silver hair that darkened at the roots. 'You dyed yours too?'

'Presumably,' he answered cryptically, as if he had not known how his hair had gotten into this state. Only, he had pointed out her ombre'd hair with a knowing grin, so she knew he had meant for it to be a conversation-starter.

'Not from around here?'

They laughed as their words overlapped one another's, and she gestured him to answer first. 'No. I'm from Sokovia.'

'Wow, that's a bit far away. But I shouldn't say it- I'm from Hong Kong. That's... somewhere in China, only... not so China. It's complicated.'

'So is Sokovia,' he frowned, a nostalgic expression flashing over his eyes.

There was a brief moment of silence, and he gestured to the exit of the club. 'Do you want to get out of here?'

'I wouldn't mind,' she replied, wondering what plans he had for both of them. She didn't want to delude herself into thinking this boy wanted her, but it seemed to fit into the puzzle. Anyway, she didn't find a reason not to say 'yes', so she went with it.

The chilly night air of New York hit her, and she shivered slightly. 'What's your story?' he asked her.

'I'm a Literature major. I'm trying to figure out what I want in life. And you?'

She had his story in the back of her mind, and she bet her heart that he brought girls back to his place regularly for some good old fucking—maybe to take things off his mind. He looked like he had experienced the universe's destruction.

He shrugged, but did not answer her question.

It didn't quite matter to her. This was a boy she met in a club. He was enough to intrigue her but she doubted his secrets were enough to keep her interested.

(In the span of her life, Romana had had three romantic escapades. She had spun her stories for them and they had fallen for her, but it was usually too late because she would have gotten tired of them after all the time it took to seduce them with language.)

'Where do you want to go?' she asked instead.

He shot her a lopsided grin, and although it was false, it sparked a fire in her.

She knew, of course, where they were going. It was easily deductible, and she had always been good at deducing people. Anyhow, they were probably heading to his flat where they would have some sex, then he would probably kick her out the next morning.

Romana did not mind being a one-night stand. As long as she had cleared out before getting kicked out the next morning.

He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door casually. He had only let her in before he had slammed her to the door and kissed her aggressively.

She did not mind the aggressiveness just as he did not mind her lack of passion. It seemed like she was rushing into something that she wasn't ready for yet (and in truth, she wasn't). But it wasn't like he minded her readiness. All he really needed was a pretty face and a body to warm his bed.

The rest of the evening was silent- at least, there were no words exchanged between the two of them. The only interaction was when he had felt obstruction when he pushed in, and he turned to her, eyes wide and full of confusion (even vulnerability, for a moment).

Romana responded with a wry smile, and turned his attention away by kissing him once again.

And then when all was lost, and Romana felt considerably relieved from the burden of virginity (it was an indescribable feeling- but there was a rush of relief), she waited until he had fallen asleep, and then picked up her things, making her way out of this boy's house.

On the way home, she stared up into the skies, and the stars seemed to be winking at her.


	3. 3

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*Right, sorry for the late update. I had literally forgotten about this. Anyway, I'm almost done with all the chapters. I'm up to chapter 8 and there will be a total of 10 chapters in this story so I really hope I can finish this one! Thank you all for following and such!_

 **3.**

Today seemed like a better day.

For starters, the sun was less prominent in the sky, and it seemed more like the winter she was used to in New York. Yesterday had somehow been a freak accident of weather, and it might have accounted for the general misfortune she had experienced.

(Except for last night, which wasn't so unfortunate after all.)

And even though every step she took physically pained her, she was running with the same half-arsed determination as she had done so yesterday.

It was less because of the motivation, but rather because it was routine.

(Or perhaps, desire to retain her current physique.)

A strand of hair fell in front of her eyes. Exasperatedly, she blew it out of her way, only to watch it fall back to the same position again. Romana was abruptly inspired by its stubbornness, and ran half a mile absorbed in the possibilities of a new plot.

Then the first wave of sunlight hit her like reality; the plot was empty—just a storyline to bring out how strong the protagonist was, and even though it seemed like a good idea at first, it fell flat because there was no substance to it.

Sighing, she managed to finish her five miles and grabbed the bottle of water from the bench and poured it down her throat.

'Hey.'

She turned, and Jaime stood beside her in all his glory. She spared him a smile and swept a gaze down his figure. 'You're never up this early,' she commented, as they headed towards the canteen.

He shrugged at her. 'I thought maybe I should give it a try. A try is enough. I don't think I ever want to do it again.'

Romana laughed in genuine amusement. 'It's a matter of routine,' she replied, 'Maybe you'll find you actually like it after some time.'

They headed towards the canteen together, and talked about school and books. 'Do you mean to say you actually like reading Shakespeare?'

She She laughed and shrugged. 'Occasionally. And in moderation.'

He chuckled, but did not offer his comment. He merely watched the girl toss fruits and grab a smoothie from various shops, and looked over at his plate full of food. 'Do you… is that enough? Are you…' he faltered, sweeping his eyes down her thin figure, 'Healthy?'

Romana just chuckled, and nodded. 'I'm not anorexic, if you're worried about that. I just don't need as much food. I'm an Arts student, not a Kinseology student.'

'We get a bad rep. It's not like that! Do you know how many muscles and ligaments there are in the body? Well, I do,' he mocked, stuffing forkfuls of food into his mouth.

'Oh no, I'm sure that's way more than the Robert Frost's poetry collection, or Dante's The Divine Comedey,' she pressed a hand to her heart in mock horror. 'It's so difficult for you! No, but seriously, stereotypes exist. Sometimes they're accurate and sometimes they're not.'

'Like you and me,' he laughed. 'You're in a walking stereotype.'

She shrugged, 'Really?'

'You're a hipster. You write. You're introverted. You stay in your dorm writing and forget going to classes. You wake up at ridiculous hours to write. Trust me, you're as good as it gets.'

'According to my professor, it's not enough,' she chuckled.

Jaime laughed. 'When you came in, the whole faculty freaked out. You were supposedly some genius who won ten competitions in two years. You can't blame them for expecting more of you.'

Romana felt incredibly accused. A hint of annoyance pricked at her neck. 'I was never some child prodigy or whatnot. I was a student in Hong Kong who wrote because she loved it, and managed to bag the awards because the overall English standard back home was significantly lower.'

'I understand, but it doesn't mean that everybody does.'

There was a slight pause.

'So,' he grinned, 'I've been meaning to ask you since I saw you. Yesterday night… did you..?'

She flushed bright red, and immediately looked down to mask it. Jaime laughed audaciously at her embarrassment. 'I don't know why you're asking,' she murmured under her breath.

He raised an eyebrow, and muffled a snort. 'Oh, please. I'd recognize that gait anywhere.'

Romana rolled her eyes.

Jaime laughed again. 'I can't believe it! You're 18! And the first time…? This is too good to be true, you innocent little shit!'

Why is that so surprising? I'm 18, that's two years past the legal. I didn't have sex for 2 years after the legal age, what's so astonishing about that?' she retorted, remembering the shock that had passed the silver-haired boy's face briefly yesterday.

He shrugged. 'You're pretty.'

Romana was not used to such compliments. She simply brushed it away, and scoffed at him. It was all so baffling to her, how boys seemed to equate attractiveness with promiscuity. Then she shrugged at him, wanting to lead the topic away from this.

'How's your stuff going then?' she asked casually.

Understanding her desire, he shrugged and answered, 'Nothing much, really. Just life. Jane's getting all up in my ass again. She hates seeing us with each other, but what the fuck, she's just a fling so she's no say over us.'

'So you're saying if she was a constant, then we'd be over in an instant?' she asked, gasping in mock horror. 'I can't believe you see us like that!'

'Shut up, Romana Song,' he laughed.

 **XXXXX**

After the lecture, she was called back by the professor.

The footsteps she took were dreadfully slow and dragging, and somehow, she knew it was not something she should look forward. Perhaps it was about the essay she was to turn up soon.

(It was.)

'How's the essay going on?'

On the tip of her tongue, she had several excuses and reasons, yet she knew she should not spew them out. At last, she had responded with a barely believable half-truth. 'I'm working on it. It's… fine. I hope.'

'How many percentage of it is finished?' he pushed on.

Romana shrunk further into herself under his glance. 'It's… well… it's halfway finished, I suppose.'

The professor looked surprised. 'That's… really not bad,' he confessed, beaming at her. 'Do you think we could have a look tomorrow? I think this could be a prize-winning essay.'

Her mouth opened and closed, and she didn't know how to respond to him at first. 'I… really? I mean… of course! Tomorrow's great. I'll see you at your office tomorrow?'

'Lunchtime, please. I look forward to reading this essay of yours. It sounds very promising,' he smiled.

A hesitant smile spread over his face, and she uttered a goodbye before she left the office with a skip in her step. I had been quite a while since she had been so optimistic in her life. Usually, she was dominated by nonchalance and intense neutrality, but now her whole word seemed to be brightened a bit more.

She faltered for a moment when she realized that she almost never seemed to write well when she was happy.

Sighing, she tried to push the unhappy thoughts out of her mind. She would not let this spoil her day.


	4. 4

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 **4.**

It had been a week since the Fortunate Incident.

She had not thought about him since then. Now, she was thinking about his silver hair and European accent, and that was perhaps because it was the first time she'd gotten drunk after that night.

Outside the window, the snow was falling steadily and slowly. She lifted the vodka to her lips and drank, letting the liquid fire burn her throat. She swallowed and it made her feel warm for a second.

'So I see you followed that boy home last week,' Ness was saying and Romana shrugged, the embarrassment having faded since talking to Jaime about it. 'How was it?'

'It hurt. But it was fine,' she replied nonchalantly.

Ness gasped, as though scandalized. 'What? It wasn't good? I can't believe it! He was hot!'

 _Hot? Is that the only word you could come up with?_ Romana hated her friend's inability to employ sophisticated words. Actually, she just wished Ness could be less crude in speech anyway. The words she chose often made her cringe in disgust.

'He's beautiful, yes,' she agreed, suddenly thinking of Jaime's earlier accusation of her sexual experience, 'But attractiveness doesn't equate sexual gratification.'

Ness shrugged, as if losing interest in the topic. 'Well, I'm going to try to talk to him,' she said as-a-matter-of-factly, pointing at the silver-haired boy that was standing by the wall, couring the crowrds for something.

A sudden spike of sourness hit Romana right across the face. She wondered, disbelievingly, if she was jealous. 'Be my guest,' she said, injecting a lightness into her voice to convince both of them that she was indifferent to him. So Ness let out a long breath, stood up and brushed her hair back neatly before she approached him.

Romana watched them interact, and felt her jealousy dissipate into that comfortable nonchalance again. She had always thought to expect nothing of others, so nothing could possibly disappoint her. And up to date, it had always been a successful strategy.

The silver-haired boy caught her looking over, and she gave him a wry smile while he shot over at her with his eyebrows raised.

She laughed and raised her glass at him before taking a sip.

After that she turned away from him and pulled out her phone to try and make use of her drunkenness to write. Within a few sentences, she realized that she was not Hemingway, and ceased trying to destroy her previous work.

Wishing to take her mind off things, she turned to a nearby person and smiled. He smiled, and they launched into a conversation about insignificant things like the weather and stupid, funny movies.

'Can I steal her for a while?'

They both turned and looked up to see the smile she knew so well. She frowned, but stood up to join him, waving goodbye to the temporary conversation partner.

'I thought you were going to sleep with my best friend.'

'I respect the girl-code—whatever the fuck that is,' he grinned at her mischievously.

Romana shrugged. 'Ness seemed pretty keen on sleeping with you. She thinks you're, for her apparent lack of better words, hot. I don't disagree, but that doesn't really do anything for me.'

'Really? It doesn't?' he asked, his breath flirting with the back of her ear sensually. 'Are you absolutely sure that I don't affect you? Not even a little bit?'

'Your physical beauty doesn't affect me. I didn't say your skill ddoesn't. It's different, you know,' she whispered, a ghostly smile etched her face. 'Why the second time sex? I thought you didn't do that.'

He shrugged, brushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. Then she thought he would answer her question, but he didn't. He merely suggested, 'Let's dance.'

Romana shrugged in retrospect, and they head out to the floor. 'I should tell you, I don't know how to dance,' she shouted over the music.

The boy shrugged again. It was, perhaps, the only way they communicated throughout the ten minutes of dancing. She swayed to the music and he held her waist as she did—it was more a routine work than enjoyment. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to insinuate going home with her just yet in fear of impoliteness. Either way, she did not get the feeling that he was enjoying this.

'If you want to take me home, we can really skip the foreplay,' she leaned close to his ear.

He laughed. 'I like dancing with you.'

Romana scoffed incredulously. 'That's preposterous,' she said, and then shook her head, chuckling. 'I'm sorry. I speak my mind when I'm drunk.'

'I do understand if my actions make it seem like the only thing I seek is sex—'

'But that's it,' she laughed light-heartedly, released from the burden of consciousness. 'I'm not particularly attached to people. I won't piss on you because you don't decide to be my boyfriend.'

He dismissed that. 'I just think you're an interesting person,' he finally said. 'I like having sex with you, that's what it is.'

'Come on,' she chuckled, 'Let's not waste time here. This is a shitty place. I hate Ness.'

The silver-haired boy laughed again. 'She's pretty. I would fuck her, but now when I've got you where I want you,' he said. Upon seeing her inquisition, he explained, 'You're a wildcard. I don't know what I can ever expect.'

The laughter that broke out of her lips next was passionate. 'Really? That's what you think? That's a first time!'

'There are always first times for everything,' he said in that European accent of his, which managed to make everything ten times sexier than they actually were.

When they arrived at his flat, Romana was surprised to find a girl lounging at his cough. The redhead rolled her eyes. 'Hi, Pietro,' she said with a sarcastic tone, 'Who's this?'

'Don't mind her,' Pietro said, pulling her towards his bedroom insistently.

'Just try to keep it down, okay?' she shouted as the door slammed shut. The redhead sighed, and grabbed her headphones to block out the sound of her brother having sex with yet another girl he had picked up.

Pietro fumbled to unlace her shirt. 'If you were wondering,' he began pulling away from her lips just to say this, then going in for another kiss before pulling away to talk again, 'That was my sister.'

Romana shrugged. 'I don't think I really care.'

He chuckled, and kissed her again.

When they had finished, he had slung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. 'You're cold. I don't see why that's possible after sex.'

'I'm always cold,' she said quietly, the three words speaking volumes about what she was. 'I don't think there's ever been a time I've been remotely warm.'

Pietro pulled her close to him. 'I haven't been cold for a long time.'

'I can see why,' she whispered, smiling up at him. She hadn't thought, after the first time, that he would be the sort of person to cuddle after sex. Yet, it was a pleasant experience. It was as if she was not lonely, for once in her life, and it felt… odd.

He stared at the ceiling, sight unusually blank for someone like him. 'Why did you… decide to lose your… the first time with someone you don't even know?'

Romana shrugged. 'I don't know.

She did. It was not something she wanted to tell him. As much as she wished she could trust him, she wished she would never know him enough to take this relationship further than it was now. The thought of getting attached to someone romantically frightened her.

'I think I'm just going to sleep,' he said, words starting to slur together.

She smiled, and stared at the ceiling until she was sure he was asleep. Then she turned towards him, and studied his hair. They were like stars against the darkness of the room. For some reason, the rise and fall of his lungs drawing in air soothed her, and she found herself watching him breath until her eyelids threatened to drop.

Then realising her fatigue, she rose from the bed, put on her clothes, and quietly closed the door behind her.

'You've been here twice.'

She looked up almost immediately, and the redhead was staring at her unsettling with those large eyes of hers. 'Yes, I have.'

'You're no different, you know. He won't fall in love with you- it doesn't mean anything,' the girl said, her words aiming to slice a wound in her heart. It hadn't really worked in her favour.

Romana simply shrugged and said, 'I know.'

'Then why do you do this?' she asked, the tone much softer than it had been before.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Romana didn't know why but she felt like trusting this girl. At least, maybe she felt like throwing something horrible about her past back to her so she would cease judging her. She grinned wryly, but also bitterly. 'You wanna sit down and talk about it?'

The redhead shook her head, and in the same European accent, said, 'I'm good.'

Romana laughed. 'Believe me, you're going to need a chair.'


	5. 5

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*This is where things get a little intense and controversial but I hope you keep reading:) Also, I will be going to London for 10 days, so I might not be updating then. Sorry!_

 **5.**

She clutched at the tea the twin sister had made her, and wondered where to start. Yet, the girl made no move to hurry her. They both had time to spare.

'I was... thirteen, fourteen when my mother's boyfriend moved in. At first I liked him. He was good looking, European, and very indulging with me,' she started, her eyes vacant as she looked at the doorway, as though she wished to escape. 'I learned quickly, that he was indulgent too, with a lot of things.'

The redhead looked solemn, like she understood where this was going. Romana heartily wished she did so this tale could go unspoken, but she continued to tell it. 'For a paedophile, he was strangely decent. Only... touches. Touching himself, when he was touching me. For a paedophile, he seemed strangely gentlemanly. He was open in his desire not to defile me- taint my purity or innocent. At least he liked to think so.'

The sister looked disturbed now. But Romana didn't stop. She didn't stop because there was something irritating about people who asked for a backstory, then announced that it was too gruesome to sit through. She hated it because _life didn't work like that._ You were born into a life, and no matter how hard and difficult it was, you had to make it to the end.

'I got the fuck out as soon as I had the chance. I loved my mother but as long as she stayed with that sick fuck, I vowed never to go back,' she looked at the redhead again.

The girl looked thoughtful, and then she frowned. 'You've told me why, but you haven't told me why not.'

Romana decided she liked this girl, and laughed. 'You're right. I guess... I wanted to... get rid of the thing that's been the cause of everything in the past few years. I guess it's just like... trying your best to rebel. He's been trying to keep my virginity intact for the last 4 years, and I'm just... going against it the best way I can. Sleeping with people who couldn't give two shits about me.'

The redhead nodded. 'I'm Wanda.'

It was as if her self-introduction was an invitation to make friends with her. Romana laughed as she realised something. 'I don't think your brother even knows my name. It's Romana.'

Wanda shrugged. 'He likes the girls.'

Romana just laughed at this.

 **XXXXX**

Romana did not go running the next morning. She had instead stayed until 3am at the Maximoff's, so by the time she had slept, it was about 4:30 in the early morning. Although she, by nature, did not need much sleep, her muscles were way too tired to be forced up.

Instead, she woke up when the alarm rang, and printed her essay out on her mini printer, then threw on some leggings and sweater and bolted out the door.

Ness had a particularly fake smile on her face. Romana matched the expression, and her smile only widened when Ness said cheerfully, 'So, how was yesterday night?'

Romana had a feeling this animosity had spawned due to Pietro's preference of herself over Ness. 'Great. Better than the first night, anyway. But I don't have much to compare it with, so I suppose it was average. I wouldn't know otherwise.'

There was a short period of silence. 'He did say you were fuckable, though,' Romana replied nonchalantly as they walked to class. 'So maybe next time you could go and blatantly offer. I think he'd accept.'

Ness frowned. 'You're not...?'

'No,' she laughed, even though there was a weird sinking feeling at her gut. She wished she knew what she was thinking, yet Romana realised that she did not even know shit about herself. 'We're not involved. We're... sleeping with each other. That's it.'

The brunette seemed to brighten up considerably after that, and resumed talking to her about boys and girls and fashion and whatnot, which Romana only tolerated for the sake of the company. 'I think I'll go tomorrow. I really like him. Do you think you can stop having sex with him?'

Romana blanched for a moment, and just laughed. 'If you really want to be with him,' she shrugged, 'but I'm not sure if he's looking for love, Ness. It's all playing around and one-night-stands for him. So look out, and don't fall too fast because he won't be there to pick you up- at least, I don't think he will.'

The brunette shrugged. 'Well, I think he's stop for me,' she replied, a bright smile on her face.

Then, Romana wanted to grimace, and hoped to heavens that Pietro Maximoff would not fall for the womanly wiles of Ness Christine.


	6. 6

**In a Grain of** **Sand**  
 _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*First of all, I am so sorry for the delay! I've been slackig off on the updates since I've been on vacation so I couldn't really update but here I am! I'm almost finished with this as well, only 4 more chapters left, and I'm writing the last one, so I'm pretty confident this will get finished (finally!)._

 **6.**

Romana picked up the cup of coffee from the table, and took a good long sip of that semi-sweet liquid. Wanda sighed, and expressed her extreme boredom at having to sit around at home alone all the time. Romana laughed, and wondered how they lived the way they did when they had no income, but ceased to delve into such sensitive matters.

'How about your brother? What shenanigans has he been getting up to?' she asked casually.

Wanda shrugged. 'The usual shit. What he's always been doing. He hasn't changed much.'

Romana sighed. 'Well, I can't say I have, either. But on the bright side, I handed in my essay and I did get pretty good comments on it so I'm happy with it. It's been quite a long time since the professor has been satisfied with- in fact, I'm sure it's the first time since anyone's been satisfied with me since a long time ago.'

The redhead laughed.

Then suddenly the door slammed open.

'Hello, Pietro,' Romana greeted amusedly, watching (albeit with a sinking feeling in her gut again) as he kissed a dark-haired girl against the doorway.

Wanda sighed again. 'My brother has the worst timing possible.'

Pietro immediately looked up, and the expression on his face was priceless. His eyes were widened dramatically, and his movements were frozen in place. He swore loudly, and simply stared at her. 'What are you doing here?' he snapped at her.

'Be nice, Pietro,' Wanda warned.

He immediately turned back to the dark-haired girl. 'Let's go,' he murmured, and they disappeared into the vicinity of their bedroom, leaving his sister and the girl he slept with to converse on their own.

The twin sister sighed. 'I'm sorry. He's a-'

'Man-whore? Yes, I gauged that. I don't mind. I'm not in love with him- or hold affection in my heart for him. It doesn't matter who he sleeps with. I'm not his girl, so I won't give any thought for him, or who he sleeps with. I mean, I don't even think he knows my name,' she answered, trying her hardest to convince them both that she did not give a damn about his conquests.

Wanda looked stern, and then suddenly smiled. 'Well, I don't know about you, but... that girl... she kind of resembles you. In a white, American way.'

'Oh, shush you,' Romana grinned, and they laughed together as she tried to ignore the banging in the bedroom next door.

 **XXXXX**

'What was that?'

Romana looked up, startled. 'Oh, hi again,' she shot him a smile that was slightly empty.

The silver-haired man looked agitated, and turned towards his sister. 'Why is she here?' he demanded, crossing his arms across his chest sassily. He studied her position- she had draped her knees over the armrest, and was reading a book while lying on the sofa. Meanwhile, Wanda was watching television.

'I like her,' Wanda deadpanned.

Romana giggled (when had she ever giggled, what was wrong with her) and switched to a more modest sitting position. She looked at Wanda, and suddenly felt the closest to home than she had ever been since moving to New York for university. Then, she found herself wondering why she would find solace in a girl who originated from Europe.

'Leave me alone and stay away from my family,' he frowned.

Her eyebrows raised, and she snapped her book shut. 'Well,' she said brightly, 'Perhaps I ought to get going then. See you, Wanda.'

Romana turned and began to walk towards the door. Cursing under her breath, Wanda immediately stood up and followed her. 'You don't have to-'

And then the front door slammed shut.

She sighed, and turned to her twin. 'Great, Pietro. I liked her. I finally made a friend, and then you scared her off.'

Pietro stared at her incredulously. 'She's one of my...'

'One night stands? She's been here twice, do you think I haven't noticed? Besides, like I said, I actually like her. It's not easy making friends when you're like me, you know.'

Pietro run his hands through his hair. 'Why her?'

'I think that's something you should find out for yourself,' Wanda replied.

He grunted.

'You know what you should also find out for yourself?' she asked, smirking. Without waiting for his answer, she said, 'Her name.'

Meanwhile, Romana was walking home in the rain.

The rain, in itself, was not really something that affected her. She did not mind the wetness as much as she did the umbrellas that flashed in bright colours in front of her eyes. Swearing as she stepped into a puddle, she stopped to study the scene around her.

Sighing, she realised that as everyone stepped onto the cement, they would leave their wet footprints onto the pavement. Everyone would leave their mark. _Just like they should. Just like everyone had left their mark on every one of us._

She thought of Pietro, and his little jab towards her. She realised that while she thought of her sleeping with him as something liberating, or something that made no impact, it would always be different in everyone's eyes. While Romana herself would know the true nature of their 'adventures', everyone would only look through the glare of rose-tinted glasses and judge, unfairly, about her morality.

Pietro, like everyone else, would only see her as sexually-hungry and driven by her sexual needs. They had objectified her and they could only understand that she was just a whore. Pietro, like everyone else, would only deem her unworthy of his sister, and condemn her to live a life of loneliness (not that she minded so much- at least she had convinced herself anyway).

And honestly, Pietro wasn't half of the cause of all her concerns and worries (that was not a lie). The depression and self-deprecation had been long rooted in the depths of her mind. She would like to think that this was only a phase, yet she never seemed to get better- only worse throughout the years.

Romana fished the keys out of her purse, and unlocked her door. Immediately, she peeled off her wet clothes and stood dripping wet in her dormitory, shivering.

 _I'm mad. I'm spiralling into a pit of insanity._

Then, as she stepped into the shower, she spent the next 15 minutes warming her body up (hopelessly) and convincing herself that she was not depressed, just indifferent.

And in truth, perhaps she just was too apathetic for everyone.


	7. 7

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*Thank you all for your lovely reviews and all those follows! I really appreciate them- you have no idea how much that makes my day:)_

 **7.**

As soon as she had completed her five mile run, Romana had bought herself another cup of espresso and attempted to finish her manuscript at the cafe.

She supposed that her breakdown earlier this week had done her good, because she found her words much easier to find and at the tip of her tongue. She had been about to finish off the chapter when someone had sat down across her. A flush spread over her cheeks as she had seen who it was.

'So how long did you think I was going to take to find you?' Wanda demanded, crossing her arms.

Romana sighed. 'Your brother made a good point.'

'He may be right, but I don't _care._ I'm not a little girl- I don't have to follow his orders. You're good to me, so I'll be good to you. My brother... doesn't know anything about you. I suppose you understand that.'

'People make judgements simply based on perception. Yes, I know that. I understand that too- I simply don't agree with it, and wish it wasn't so,' she replied casually. 'Anyway, from the moment I followed him home I knew what to expect. I knew what I was getting into.'

Then she turned back to her computer and finished the next few lines of the story. Wanda waited patiently until Romana was rendered uncomfortable by the silence. She snapped the laptop close and turned to her, then said pointedly, 'Look, I just don't want to be that girl who comes between a pair of twins with an incredible bond.'

'And you don't want to be that girl who leaves the friend who only has you,' Wanda retorted.

Something in Romana's eyes softened. All her life she had never been anyone's only choice. It was always the other way around and this all came as a sudden but pleasant surprise to her. Right now, she could not articulate how she felt. She opened and closed her mouth, wondering how the hell she was at a loss for words- her sharp tongue had _never_ been at a loss for words.

'Wanda...' she managed, then choked at her own emotions that were hitting her in the face right now.

Wanda smiled at her. 'I am not letting you leave me because Pietro does not like you. In fact, I don't think he dislikes you, he just feels threatened by your existence.'

Romana laughed and dismissed her. 'Your brother is most definitely not that kind of guy.'

'He might be,' the redhead did not look pleased at the accusation, 'But you may never know because you haven't tried looking past his layers of masks. He has protected me countless times and because of him... I am where I am now.'

There was a hint of longing in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly. She sent a meaningless smile over at Wanda. 'You're right, I may never know. I have never known. I've never known anything otherwise from anyone and that's why this is me. I can't change who I am because I don't know otherwise. I can name a million things I don't give two shits about. And I can count, with the fingers on one hand, the things I care about.'

'People care about you, Romana. I know because I've been down your road. You're just what, 18? You don't know shit about life! You've never lived it!'

There was a long period of silence. Then Romana stared at Wanda and realised that what she had said was enlightening. But then, she again wondered why her epiphany never came.

'It's fine you never understood but I'm trying to make you see that I care about you. So you can't just leave claiming that it's "all for the better". That's not your choice to make, you know?' Wanda said again, softer.

Because Romana didn't want to argue anymore, and the words that came out of Wanda's lips were actually very comforting, she smiled at her, and kept her mouth shut.

 **XXXXX**

Romana felt content, but not exactly whole, for approximately one week. For one week, she was allowed peace, until the other twin finally resurfaced into her life.

She was running that morning. It was strange, because she was running faster now. Perhaps it was because her agility had improved, or perhaps (and less likely), it was because she had more momentum to move forward. Either way, it made the sun in the sky shine a little brighter for her, and the black and white world a little less lacklustre.

Thirty minutes later, she was out of breath and had taken refuge from the drizzle under a large leafy tree. And then before she knew it, a certain European had joined her on the bench.

'The last time we spoke, I thought I got a pretty clear "get the fuck away from me and my sister, you're inadequate" message,' she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Pietro snorted. 'Yes, well, I don't think you've taken my advice, anyway.'

'It was a stupid advice- besides, I only ever take my own advice. Not entirely true, but that's the gist of it.'

Both of them chuckled at her attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. 'You sped up today. You're usually running like you've got all the time in the world.'

Romana scowled, but she knew he was right. 'I was jogging, asshole. Besides, I haven't ever seen you around. Are you sure you're not just making this shit up?'

'For a girl like you, you swear in abundance,' he ignored her accusation, looking away.

Like him, she choose to dismiss it. 'Wow, two Maximoff's in one week! What an accomplishment I've made! So, what brings you to talk to me? Because it's the most we've talked since... really, it's the most we talked.'

He rolled his eyes, and shuffled closer to her. 'I was too harsh on you. I'm trying to apologise. Sorry.'

'You're not doing a good job of it, but it's fine.'

'I'm told I don't do a good job on most things.'

'Welcome to my life,' she chuckled.

There was a short silence. 'Now what? We go to your flat to have hot sex again?'

Pietro laughed. 'Thanks, but no thanks. Sex with you is emotionally exhausting.'

'I'm flattered,' Romana replied monotonously. She found herself wishing time would freeze so she could figure out what she was thinking. Was she upset that Pietro rejected sex with her? Or was she relieved to know that she would no longer have the chance to get attached to him? Which was more intimidating; to know that she was not wanted, or to know that she would be lonely?

Pietro shrugged, then stood up. 'No problem. Drop by some time, we can have tea or something.'

Just as he finished the sentence, another boy had arrived at their shelter. 'Hey, who's this?'

'Pietro. This is Jaime, he's my friend.'

Pietro gave them a little wave, and then left the two university schoolmates with each other, venturing into the pouring rain. And then, as he went, he realised that he had still not learnt her name.

 _After all this time,_ he thought, and chuckled to himself.


	8. 8

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*So sorry for the long wait! I was cleaning things up a bit:) I hope it's worth it!_

 **8.**

Romana knew, as soon as she had started gravitating closer to the twins' lives, that things would take a turn for the worse.

It wasn't because they were dangerous or hazardous to her daily life, per se, in fact, they provided a constant source of familiarity (since they all were so far from their home and all) in her otherwise foreign and cold world. It was this warmness she felt around them, and the constant happiness she felt around them that irked her.

Romana knew, somehow, that this lightness would catch up with her. And as she sat there at her desk, her mind running blank, she realised that she could not jumpstart the latest chapter in her manuscript. _You're three chapters away from finishing this. Don't decide to have writer's block now._

To top it off, her professor had called her out one hour ago in class, and chastised her for her poorly written assignment.

Romana accepted the criticism. Even an amateur like herself knew that it was indeed a poorly written reflection of a poetry collection that deserved much more elegance in its analysis. But at that time she kept forgetting all the eloquent words and the sentences that came out of her pen were excessively ugly and vapid.

Sighing, her mind flashed back to her previous thought. _The literary canon is filled with depressed people._ How was she supposed to do this? Her life was a rollercoaster of emotions because she constantly did not know what she wanted. It was exhausting to want to be happy and sad at the same time. Sinking into a whirlpool of nonchalance was unsatisfying, but when her mood was upbeat, it was impossible to excel in the parts of life she longed to.

It was virtually impossible to keep a balance in her life. Romana couldn't see a clear future in her life- living her life out as a writer would make her dreams come true, and possibly make her happy- but then would the happiness ruin her? Then was she doomed to live a life out in depression?

Frustratedly, she slammed her laptop close and reached for a fresh set of clothes before heading out the door. Right now, all that was running through her mind was a desire to let all these worries pour to the back of her mind.

The club, as usual, screamed of music and sex and sweat. Her head started to pound as the music blared through the speakers. She sighed and picked a seat near the corner of the club. Ordering a tequila, she leaned back and mourned for the decreasing swell of her wallet. _How long before I cannot afford my dormitory rent anymore, and I have to go to my mother begging for help?_

As she continued to drink, the world started to swirl around her. Ineffectively, she stood up and stumbled forward a few steps. She placed a hand on the counter to steady herself, but her train of thoughts went on in several directions.

Among the crowds, she spied a silver-haired man, standing near the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Next to him was none other than Ness Christine.

Romana watched, mesmerised, for a while as Ness leaned in and Pietro closed in the space, and their lips touched. She watched, and felt a kind of fury rise up to her lungs and escape her lips in a rush of hot air. She wondered why this was, because she should not be feeling anything, _anything_ over anyone. It was unfathomable that she was here, feeling upset because for some damned reason, Pietro (someone she had just bloody had sex with) was kissing her best friend (who wasn't her best friend, actually).

Then she turned, but not before Pietro also caught a glimpse of the dark roots and blonde ends. And then he stared after her back before the brunette before him had pulled him back and brought him to her lips again.

Romana stepped into the cold pavement, feeling the chilly air hit her face. the breeze made her sober up a little, just enough to realise where she was heading. There is a sinking feeling in her gut, but she easily numbed herself. _I am a rock. I am an island._

Then she looked up into the sky, and sighed.

Ness was full of glow the next morning. Romana swallowed as she approached her best friend. Ness smiled at her. 'I went home with Pietro yesterday. How could you have not known? He's a _God_ in bed!' she gushed passionately.

Romana forced a laugh. 'Really?' she said, finding herself sick in the stomach. As Ness began to ramble about Pietro's skills or his sweet words, she realised what this sinking was. It had been a long time since she had been envious of someone because of _boys._ Usually it was just getting green-eyed over other people's lives being better than hers. But this? This was new. And she had no idea what to do with it.

She just smiled and nodded, trying to untangle the knots in her head. It was just like going back to yesterday, when her state of mind was fucked over by the alcohol and she couldn't think straight.

But she was not. Here she was, completely sober, yet she could not make sense of those feelings lurking in her mind. So instead of trying to decipher these codes, she simply engaged Ness in a conversation about Jaime and everything that she knew the brunette would eat up in a heartbeat.

It wasn't until after lunch and she was in her room that she finally came to terms with herself. A wave of depression rolled over her as she stared blankly at her manuscript. Groaning, she typed away furiously, writing anything and everything that she could at the moment. Right now, she was feeling things that were normally tasteless and dull. Right now, she wanted to pour her heart out and find a way to keep those emotions from strangling her.

Romana realised that now she could feel again, like a normal person. She had liked being neutral, and nonchalance was better suited for her life. She decided that she hated the pain that was gnawing at her stomach, like a kind of deadly poison that threatened to bite through her organs and flesh and destroy her.

So, in a flash of despair and hopelessness, Romana typed her last fullstop and stared at the document with equal parts of amazement and nonchalance.

 **XXXXX**

'I'm sorry, we can't offer you anything.'

Romana blanched. 'It was promising, wasn't it? You wrote two weeks ago, saying you were excited to read it! You can't tell me that-'

'It was promising,' the woman interrupted, brushing her hair behind her ear, 'That is why we called you in- because we felt you deserved a proper explanation. The manuscript was well written out. And we understand the artistic flair of having things very realistic, but we think it's been too bleak. At a time like this, we believe America needs something more uplifting.'

A tug of annoyance hit her at her lungs, constricting and squeezing the air out of her. 'It's not-'

'We've been very respectful to personally arrange a meeting to contact you, I hope you realise that,' she again interrupted, and Romana felt very small at once.

She stepped out into the pavement again, feeling too small and powerless in a suit that was too professional for her, wandering in a city that was too flashy for her. Right there and then, Romana found that while she knew exactly what she wanted, it had, ultimately, made no difference.


	9. 9

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*So sorry for the long delay! I have actually just moved to Vancouver, so that's why I wasn't updating. Anyway, I'm actually starting university in a few days, but don't worry because I've already finished everything. Expect the end in a few days!_

 **9.**

Yesterday, Romana had brought the manuscript to another publisher (the 10th one, in fact). It had been rejected— again.

She wondered if she ever expected anything more.

As of now, she was on her way to Wanda and Pietro's apartment. She had called early on to make sure Pietro had not been 'on the hunt'. It was crucial to her mental state that she did not get affected at her current mentality. There was no predicting what she could be capable of.

'Hi Wanda,' she greeted warily, dumping her bag onto the floor in exasperation.

Wanda raised her eyebrow. 'You look dejected.'

'Yes, well, I have just been rejected.'

'Who's the unlucky boy?' Pietro grinned, walking in and looking as glorious as ever. But when had Romana ever given so much thought about Pietro's attractiveness? It had always been just something lingering in the background as she relished their similarities in being emotionally compromised.

Romana laughed. 'I don't think I'd be so affected if it were a boy. It was my tenth publisher,' she smiled and accepted the tea from Wanda. 'And then it occurred to me, maybe I'm not as good as I wanted to be.'

'No one is ever as good as they want to be,' he said, shrugging. Romana didn't even notice it yet, but it continued to bite at the edge of her mind until it blew up fully, and she started to understand. Pietro was right— _no one is ever as good as they want to be._

'You know what?' Romana said in the middle of nowhere, smiling slightly, 'You know your shit.'

Pietro looked confused, and then grinned. 'You're damn right, I do.'

Wanda scoffed. 'All he knows is which girl to fuck.'

'Like my best friend,' Romana blurted out, which then caused a blackout of speech and complete bafflement. Hoping to disperse the awkwardness, she instantly added, 'And she's been waiting for that for months, so you're a lucky man.'

Pietro winked at her. 'Not lucky enough.'

Her heart didn't skip a beat, but there was a spark of excitement. 'No, but she's amazing in bed, or so I've heard,' she laughed instead, feigning absolute negligence of his implication.

'I've had better sex.'

There was again a pause, and she stood up, looking at them. 'So, I could make you lunch, or we could go out for lunch. What do you say?'

'I hate Americans, I'll take home-cooking any day,' Pietro rolled his eyes, 'No offense, Romana.'

Romana snorted. 'I feel you. I'm Canadian.'

Then they laughed, and she made her way to the kitchen to gather her ingredients to hopefully make a decent meal. It had been way too long since she had been in a kitchen, and as stereotypical and misogynistic as it seemed to be, she had missed cooking dreadfully.

After cleaning up after the pair of exceptionally hungry twins, she had left their apartment with the excuse that she had a test to study for in two days.

Just as Pietro was about to enter his room, Wanda had slammed the door with her powers. 'What do you think you're doing, Pietro?'

He threw his hands up in exasperation. 'What?'

'The girl, Pietro! You obviously like her! She obviously has feelings for you! What is this flirting with her then pretending it means nothing?' she exclaimed. 'She's a damaged girl. You can't pretend you can't see it. She needs steadiness in her life, Pietro. You can't be so selfish.'

He looked annoyed, then crossed his arms over his chest. There was a moment when he didn't seem to know how to explain to Wanda. 'I don't like her. She's a friend.'

Wanda just stared at him with the most incredulous expression she had ever put on. 'I'm your twin.'

He sighed. 'I don't need this. I don't need to get attached to anyone in my life. Wanda, you're the only constant in my life. I can't start having feelings for anyone else. Besides, she's so emotionally compromised it's frightening. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so cold.'

'I think you're just looking into a mirror, and you're just scared at what you're feeling,' Wanda said crossly, then stepped away from his door. 'You could own up to it, or you could let her slip away. It's your call.'

Just as Wanda walked away, Pietro asked a question that raised the already high tension. 'And what of our powers? How do we explain them?'

Instead of keeping quiet, she laughed without humour, and said, 'And do you think she does not have secrets to keep from you? We're not the only ones with a dark past.'

 **XXXXX**

'I'm serious!'

Romana ceased laughing, and Jaime frowned at her disapprovingly. 'Jaime, you don't do this. You don't ever fall in love with anyone. It's just not you.'

Jaime sighed, and leaned back into her seat. 'But Lauren is… she's perfect.'

Shaking her head, Romana stood up to put some music on to cure her of her increasing desperation. 'No. You don't just… get to decide that you care about someone,' she murmured, 'How do you just flick a switch one day and decide to love someone?'

The brown-haired boy shook his head, and stood up, grabbing her by the shoulders. 'Because you've found the right girl. I swear it's true—it's not just some bullshit about "love at first sight" or shit. This is love. I know because since I've seen her I have not stopped thinking about her and—'

'That's obsession, Jaime.'

'It's not!' Jaime exclaimed, and sighed. 'I don't think I can explain this to you. You don't feel anything about anyone not because you're born this way, but simply because you haven't met the right person. It's true, Romana. I don't know how to tell you about the feeling at the bottom of my stomach, but it's there and it's so overwhelming because it's all I ever feel. She's all I ever feel.'

Romana smiled blankly, and nodded, pretending to understand. The truth was, the concept of love was just so foreign to her. She could certainly understand attraction (albeit not very well) and desire, but the fact that someone out there was _made_ to love her? There never existed such a concept (unless it had been buried too deep too early on in life).

'But don't people just fall apart and relationships just break?'

At that moment, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe Romana was trying very, very hard to convince not only Jaime that true love did not exist, but also herself.

For what, she did not know. But she was starting to fear that she had an idea why it was.


	10. 10

**In a Grain of Sand  
** _To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower._

* * *

 _*Hi guys, so this is finally the end! I really had fun writing this, so I hope you had as much fun reading as well. It's not a very uplifting story or anything, and it's definitely not a very satisfying one in terms of romance or anything, but I'm trying to steer away from that sort of thing right now. Anyway, I really hope you like what it stands for:)_

 **10.**

Romana did not usually look forward. She had always just strayed in the past and (rarely,) the present. The manuscript, however dearly she had held it in her heart, had become just another regret that was cast into the shadows of her mind.

(It was, crucial, perhaps, that it was cast away, because it held an uncanny similarity to her own life story that would sometimes- most of the times- play out behind her eyelids. It was also a story, in which the heroine would meet her end despite trying to claw her way out of the pit.)

Yet even though her first manuscript had bit the dust, she had not lost her will. Romana understood that no matter how far, how hard you fell, you will always fall back on the thing that you loved the most. And no matter how nonchalant she was of life, the art of writing never ceased to interest her (unless of course, she contracted Writer's Block).

Anyway, to make up for her dissolving flirtation with Pietro, she was working twice as hard on her last assignment of the term. She had just been brainstorming the perfect way to end the conclusion when a abrupt and brash knock resonated in her tiny dormitory.

She sighed, and brushed her hair back to answer the door.

Jaime raised an eyebrow at her outfit, but she only shrugged in response. 'So are you going to invite me in?'

Romana nodded, holding the door wide open for him. He stepped in, stashing his hands into his pockets. He had a flushed cheek, and agitated skip in his step. She also noticed that his head was down and his shoulders were slightly sloped, as if he was carrying some kind of burden on them.

Romana saw his words before she heard them. She watched them slip out of his lips and dissolve in the thin, dense air. She stared for a moment as the sentence floated in her mind.

 _Lauren asked me to choose. I'm sorry, Romana, I came to say goodbye._

'Well,' she swallowed, pausing, 'I can't say I didn't see that coming.'

For a strange reason, she was not upset. She did not find herself disturbed over the fact that Jaime had chosen a girl he met 2 weeks ago over her, someone he had known since Orientation.

'I'm sorry she doesn't like you. It was catty of her, but I love her.'

Romana continued to nod. 'Okay.'

'Are you okay?' he asked, concerned.

She wondered why he would be, but realised she did not care whether he was worried. 'I'm fine.'

There was a long pause, and then he turned and left her dorm.

Romana stood there for a while. Despite the indifference towards the end of their friendship, she could feel something bubbling up. It was not a kind of heaviness or sadness- she found it to be a kind of relief. And then she realised she was relieved because Jaime had chosen Lauren. Lauren, a girl whom he had met 2 weeks ago. Lauren, whom he knew nothing about yet still chose over the old friend who knew what he was thinking.

Romana Song realised she was nonchalant because if nothing could convince her that true loved existed- this could.

Jaime, the serial heart breaker, breaking up with Romana for some girl he had fallen in love with.

Romana turned back and continued to write her essay.

 **XXXXX**

If Jaime's departure from Romana's life affected anything, it only made a positive impact.

Two days later, she had handed in an essay that pleased herself, and that was an even harder feat than pleasing her professor (after all, the hardest judge is usually oneself). Her professor flipped through, and gave her an impressed nod before moving on to another student. She beamed at herself.

And now, she was walking into the university bookstore. The brunette smiled at her with the kindness she would never have expected from a stranger. 'Can I help you?'

Romana battled with herself for a while. Could she really do this? Become that responsible young girl who earns her own wages instead of living off her dwindling bank account. 'I... um... I just wanted to... well, I thought I would see if you needed extra help,' she managed.

The storekeeper smiled. 'Well, we would need to conduct an interview, but I'm sure we could use some extra help now and then.'

Romana smiled back at her.

When she had gotten the call two days later, informing her that she had gotten the job, she realised why she had been so reluctant to find a job.

What she had been chasing her whole life was self-discovery- constantly, she was trying to find out who she was. Approximately since she was seventeen, she had been convinced that she would be that broke artist living off what measly income she had, refusing to conform.

And honestly, Romana was afraid to let go of what she had- the perfect stereotype of a writer, as if it did anything to increase her chances of becoming the next literature sensation. She held on to whatever she thought defined her, terrified of change, not knowing it made her what she despised the most.

Jaime leaving was an awakening. Not a huge one, but it was enough, like a tiny jolt of electricity.

Romana realised that if Jaime could curb his habit of womanising without losing who he was, she could do without poverty without losing her direction.

(Because living in the present, sometimes, isn't enough. You had to look out for the future as well.)

Jaime was the first friend she made in university, and watching him walk into the bookstore with his girlfriend still hurt her, but it hadn't meant it was the end of everything.

Perhaps, this was why Romana Song had not walked away when she saw Pietro Maximoff snogging another girl right outside his apartment right after his shift. Because it was not the end of all things.

'That's enough,' she snapped, yanking Pietro away from the Asian girl. The blonde brother looked scandalised, and embarrassed at the same time. She crossed her arms in front off her chest and demanded, 'What the fuck are you doing?'

He stared at her, and did not answer. The girl beside him frowned. 'Who _are_ you?' she asked in annoyance. Romana did not blame her- she was justified.

'He needs to sort out his priorities, I'm sorry. Off you go,' Romana nodded towards the direction of the cab. The girl looked incredulously at her, but she only urged Pietro's conquest with an impatient gesture.

It was Pietro's turn to cross his arms in front of him. 'What is the meaning of this?' he demanded.

'Let's switch that question around,' she said, ' _What_ is the meaning of this?'

'Of what?' he asked exasperatedly.

Romana raised her eyebrows. 'Honestly? That girl? Are you going to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about?'

Pietro slid a palm down his face, obviously distressed. 'To be completely honest with you? I have no idea. I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Are you going to tell me?'

She raised her hands defensively. 'You are asking me-'

'All right! I don't know what happened! One moment I saw her and I just- Goddamn it, are you going to make me explain myself?' he growled, throwing his hands up in frustration.

'Well, I don't know what to expect with you!' she protested.

'She looked like you. I acted on my instincts. I just... it just... felt right,' he finished lamely.

Romana smiled at him and sighed in relief. 'Good. Well, I was hoping to hear that. I mean... well, something along those lines, at least.'

Pietro looked surprised, until Romana grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. And then it was his hands were in her hair and he was kissing her the hardest and most passionate he had ever kissed anyone.

As they pulled away, she grinned and said, 'By the way, she looked nothing like me, you asshole.'

He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss.

As Romana kissed him, she realised that nothing really mattered. The world would turn and time would pass; yet her past would never alter, no matter how hard she tried to erase it all. Life would go on despite the hardships that she had endured.

And whatever she had endured could not affect her now. It would no longer make a difference in her life so she chose to leave it alone and keep it away from Pietro, because what's past is the past and none of that really mattered anymore, because the world was really just a speck of dust in reality.

As they smiled at each other, Romana didn't know what this would make them, but at least she understood what they both stood for—he was the yang to her yin and the sun to her moon. And perhaps, staying in each others' lives was the one and only way to regulate them.


End file.
